


Love and Death

by AllThingsMalec



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Happy Ending, I know diddly squat about tagging, Isin't it?, M/M, that's all that matters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25049935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllThingsMalec/pseuds/AllThingsMalec
Summary: Who were they before....
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 21
Kudos: 51
Collections: Favorite Malec Stories





	Love and Death

Whichever way you spin it, his job sounds much crueller than it truly is. _Deliverer of Death. The Grim Reaper. Soul Taker._

As though he’s some evil villain everyone fears. Truth is, he’s boring. Quiet. A loner. It’s his path and one he follows without argument. Retrieve those who are meant to die and take them where they’re supposed to go. The only spark in his dull life is when he holds the person’s hand in his as they travel. Their emotions and warmth surge through him for only a moment, but it’s enough to chase away the aching loneliness.

Until the next one.

The repetition is wearing on him, though. He always wonders if there’s more out there in life for Death. Like something’s definitely missing. Sometimes, he wonders if he’s even allowed these thoughts. Will the powers that be yank his scythe away and toss him in with the other broken souls bound by eternity in a fiery pit? Or will they grant him mercy and send him with the good ones? Above the clouds and into the warmth?

Neither interests him.

What tugs at the loose threads inside his mind are where the people come from. Before Death. During life. In those few moments as he guides them to their new home, they gift him their thoughts and dreams and overwhelming emotions, all of which he is grateful for. Even as Death, he lives all of their lives for a blink of time. He loves it, and yet it’s still not enough.

“It’s time,” he says aloud to the shadows, though they never speak back.

His heart aches and thunders inside his chest, showing him to his next soul he is to retrieve. He’s about to head toward it, his purpose driving him, when he hears it. 

_Him_.

Across the planes of reality. Penetrating his muted existence. Tossing colour in his black, dark world.

Red.

So much red.

And …. _chuckling?_

His laughter sounds like chaos and destruction.

Evil. Maniacal. _Beautiful._

He turn his back on the darkness and ignores the light. Instead, he follows the sounds to him. Toward this something new.

Man?

Angel?

“Cupid?”

He stares at this Cupid with his pouty pink lips and half-cocked grin. He’s not sure he’s ever seen anything more beautiful. Anything so perfect. Dark, messy hair and his hazel-green eyes carve holes inside Death’s withering soul, exposing every hidden part of him. His body is lean but toned, the top half bare of clothing. A leather strap crosses over his chest, settling between his muscular pectorals, holding a quiver of arrows on his back. Porcelain skin that glistens with sweat and is speckled crimson, draws Death closer as he is eager to inspect every part of him. 

“Cupid?” He repeats, his own voice a husky whisper.

“And you?”

“Death.”

“Hmph.”

Death cocks his head, pondering Cupids obvious irritation. “You give love?”

“You take it away,” Cupid bites back, rolling his neck on his shoulders. “Don’t you?”

Death’s scythe feels too heavy to carry. A burden he doesn’t particularly want anymore. Clarity finds him after who only knows how many eons he’s endured. Everything is suddenly clear.

“I never take love,” Death explains. “I move it.”

“You divide,” Cupid accuses.

Death is not ashamed of his calling. It’s a job. A duty. 

_So why do I feel guilty?_

Why does this man with dark hair and beautiful eyes make him feel bad for doing what is necessary? 

“Let me see your face, Death,” Cupid demands, his pink lips twisted in a cruel slash across his face. “Let me see who undoes everything I do. A wicked beast. The end of all beginnings.”

Death drops his scythe to his feet and tugs at his black hood. Shame heats his flesh for reasons he can’t begin to ponder. He chances a look at Cupid from beneath his lashes. 

_Am I a monster to Cupid?_

_A horrifying creature who hurts and destroys what he creates?_

Cupid’s hazel eyes aren’t narrowed in anger, no, they’re shining with tears.

“What is it?” Death bites on his bottom lip, his brows furrowing.

“You’re so…”

“Terrible?” Death concludes.

Cupid steps closer and lifts a hand, caressing Death’s cheek with his thumb. Tendrils of excitement flitter through him. Something familiar niggles at Death. His flesh heats and he trembles. 

“No, Death,” he murmurs in a soft voice that speaks to every part of Death. “Not terrible at all.”

“What then?” He asks curiously.

“Not what I was expecting.” Responds Cupid.

“What were you expecting?”

“To be disgusted.” Cupid sighs. “And I’m not.”

“What are you then?”

“Delighted. Even after all this time.”

Death grins and it’s in this moment he wonders if he’s ever smiled before now. It’s invigorating. Enlightening. 

“Delighted? Over seeing me?”

Finally. The word hits him hard enough in the chest, he gasps.

“Someone has to clean up this mess. You’re Death after all.” His eyes narrow as though he’s daring Death to argue. “Right?” 

Death’s gaze drifts to the pile of bodies behind him. A bloody massacre. Confusion washes over him. This isn’t part of his job. Something is wrong.

“What have you done, Cupid?” Death rasps out. He turns toward him, his eyes drifting up Cupids bloody chest. 

“I did…I did what I had to do. To stop the never-ending monotony.” He runs a shaky blood-stained hand through his dark hair, making it stick straight in the air. His manic eyes find Death’s. “To get someone to notice that we’re just part of a vicious cycle that desperately needs ending.”

“You wanted someone to notice?” Death reaches a hand toward him. He doesn’t flinch when Death runs his fingertips through the blood speckles, smearing them. “I noticed.”

Cupids breath hitches when Death ghosts his knuckles up the column of his throat and caress his strong, sharp jaw with his thumb. “You’re certainly here, Death.”

“I certainly am.” Death touches Cupid’s ear and then strokes his fingers through Cupid’s hair, smoothing it back down like it was before. “What happens now Cupid?”

His shoulders hunch and he eyes the pile of bodies warily. “I’m not sure. They punish us perhaps.”

“How?”

“Relieve us of our duties indefinitely?” There’s a challenge in his words. Almost as if he already knows the answer but wants Death to figure it out.

Death ponders his words. “Sounds like a reward.”

Hazel eyes snap to Death’s. “Hmph.”

“No one’s coming,” says Death, his gaze locked on Cupid’s. “What do we do?” Death waits for the familiar pull to drag him toward the dead so he can take them where they need to go.

_Nothing._

The only thing pulling him is curiosity…and something else. Something strong and familiar. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

_Toward him._

“I broke it,” Cupid mutters. “I broke love.” He smirks at Death. “And Death.”

He touches Cupid’s lips because they beg for attention. Parted and puffy. They seem sweet. Death’s mouth waters for a taste.

“Maybe it was broken before,” Death utters, pushing his fingers into Cupid’s mouth to feel him there as well. Slick and warm. He likes it. “Maybe you fixed it now.”

Cupid bites his fingers. A zing of desire shoots straight to Death’s cock. Fragments of memories flash inside his mind like a kaleidoscope, colourful and brilliant.

“I was…” Death frowns, pondering. “I was a man once.” His fingers slip from Cupid’s mouth. “I…I feel like there’s more.”

“Tell me, Death,” Cupid sneers. “Were you ever in love?”

An ache, violent and ugly, rips through Death’s chest. Hot tears form in his eyes. He staggers back, trying desperately to catch his breath. “I was.” There’s a hole in his heart filled with anguish and longing. His obligation to his duties somehow dulled the ache—dulled him.

_But. Now. I. Feel._

“It hurts,” He chokes out. “Love hurts.”

“When love is divided,” Cupid whispers. “When it’s torn or destroyed or crumpled. Love hurts most when it’s forgotten.” His lashes are wet with tears. “Perhaps it feels liked _death_.”

Death leans in, eager to taste his lips that are now glistening from the sadness that streaks down his cheeks. It’s soft at first, their kiss. A brush of their lips. His sharp intake of air. Death’s needy groan.

And then he feels the pull.

Strong. Unyielding. Maddening.

_To him. To him. To him._

Death’s fingers tangle in his soft hair as he greedily tugs him closer. Their tongues duel in an epic battle where love surely wins. He tastes like sweet hope with a splash of despair. Death want to kiss away the sadness and fill him with something better.

_But I am only Death._

_I ruin. I erase. I eliminate._

He is no longer disillusioned. He’s filled with clarity and sorrow. Regret for time lost. Desperate for the time that still exists.

“You were mine,” Death realises, clutching onto him as though he might vanish if he lets go. And then suddenly Death whispers, “Alexander?”

“I always was. I still am. I always will be yours, Magnus Bane.”

The ache lessens with each passing second. 

“There is only you, Magnus.” He begins to pull away. Magnus digs his fingers into his flesh, unable to let him go. Not ever again. 

“Don’t go,” Magnus pleads.

“Not alone.” His swollen pink lips curl into a half grin. “Never alone.”

“I’m coming with you?” Asks Magnus.

“We’re going home.”

Magnus grips his hips, pulling Alec’s body to his once more. Alec’s nearness electrifies him. Magnus’ heart races inside his chest when he catches his familiar scent.

_He is mine._

“Where is home?” Magnus murmurs, kissing him once more. 

“Wherever we make it.”

Magnus sucks Alec’s full bottom lip into his mouth, hungry to spend all of eternity tasting him. “And what about all this?”

Alec chuckles, this time it sounds like hopefulness and peace. “We leave it to _Chance_.”

Heavy footsteps thud their way. A man with a roguish grin and blond hair comes to stand beside them. “Someone call for me?”

“Love. Death. I think we’re tired of deciding these things,” Cupid says. “It’s up to you now.”

“It’s irresponsible to leave it in his hands,” a female voice mutters out nearby. “Sometimes _Fate_ must intervene. _Chance_ can’t decide everything.”

_Chance_ smirks at _Fate_. “Catch me if you can.”

He vanishes off leaving _Fate_ to grin at Magnus and Alec. 

“Sometimes _Fate_ is slow, but she always makes her way there in the end.”

She blows them a kiss.

Red fades to black.

He’s gone.

_But so am I._

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Alec’s lover sleeps late into the afternoon because he’s a man of the night. His beautiful bronze skin isn’t meant for basking in the sun as Alec often does while Magnus sleeps. He watches the moon and counts the stars. And Alec always counts with him.

“I don’t smell bacon, love,” he rasps out, cracking an eye open. “You’re slacking on the job.”

Alec runs his fingers through Magnus’ dark hair. “Soon, Babe. Let me look at you a little while longer.”

Magnus dark lashes flutter closed and his lovely lips part as he drifts back to sleep. When they split them apart, they broke his lover. All the parts that make him remember are fragmented and lost. His heart, though, never forgets. His heart is Alec’s. It knows him. It follows him out of the darkness. His heart never fails.

Alec trails his fingertips over the curve of his caramel toned shoulder, admiring the beauty lying beside him. His perfection. 

_Mine._

He doesn’t linger too long on the future or the past. He’s greedy for this moment. Just this one. They were denied so many. One feels like a treasure. A kingdom. A reward. 

“Bacon,” Magnus murmurs. “I’m dreaming about it now.”

“You can’t dream while awake,” Alec teases.

His eyes open and are filled with such love it steals Alec’s breath. “I always dream of you. Even awake. Even now.”

Alec rolls him onto his back and straddles his narrow, naked waist. Grabbing his wrists, Alec pins him to the bed and smiles.

“You’re getting really good at this,” Alec says with faux irritation. 

He laughs—beautiful and pure. “At what?”

“Getting your way.”

“Good, love, then make me some bacon.” Magnus’ hands free themselves from Alec’s grasp and he playfully slaps his ass. Magnus drags Alec’s body along his hardened cock. “But later.”

“What about now?” Asks Alec with cheeky grin.

“Let me love you.” His dark eyes flash with clarity as he pulls Alec to him for a frantic kiss. “Like I was born to.” 

“And then bacon,” Alec teases, nipping at his perfect lips as he adjusts his body over Magnus’, sinking over his thick length. 

Magnus groans in pleasure, squeezing Alec’s ass. 

“There’s always time for bacon, but there’s never enough time for you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> They really do...ALWAYS, find their way back to each other....💙💙


End file.
